A lonely pursuit
by Barcardivodka
Summary: But then he wasn't normal when it came to sex, was he? Warning Tag: Masturbation


As always, with grateful thanks to my betas, whose advice I value highly, but sometimes ignore in the erroneous belief that I know better.

All mistakes and errors are mine, and mine alone

* * *

"Christ!"

James swore in frustration as he leaned his forearm against the tiled wall and banged his forehead against it. Warm water cascaded around him as he stroked his cock harder for a minute or two in stubborn refusal, before finally admitting defeat. He looked down in disappointment as his half-hearted erection quickly wilted.

"Sod it." He switched the shower off, grabbed a towel and quickly dried himself, before he padded through to the bedroom and flopped down onto the bed.

It was always the same. The tension within him would bubble and boil until it became unbearable, sexual release should have been the quickest and easiest way to bring him relief. If he was a normal bloke then he'd have a regular wank on Sunday mornings and that would be the end of it.

But then he wasn't normal when it came to sex, was he? James let out a contemptuous laugh. Since he was young he'd known he'd wanted to be a priest, although there was a brief period when he'd considered the possibility of indulging in his love of music. He'd had this stupid notion of entering his service to God virtuous and pure. He covered his face with his hands as, even in the privacy of his own home, he flushed with embarrassment. He really was a fucking prat.

Attending an all-boys school had helped keep a burgeoning libido in check, as did the constant reminder that he was on a scholarship and its continuation required him to maintain his high grades. University had given him far more opportunity to mingle with the opposite sex, but he'd found himself tongue-tied and flustered around the female students, and his cock had suddenly taken on a far more wayward life of its own. He'd buried himself in his studies and the contemplation and solace of prayer.

The Seminary had been everything James had hoped it would be. He was surrounded by others who shared the same ethos. For the first time, James truly felt he belonged. As the months passed, however, he'd started to feel discontented, uncertain with his calling. The final straw came when Will McEwan, his one-time best friend, had come to James for help and guidance and James hadn't listened; he'd recited words he now no longer believed and condemned Will and his lifestyle without thought or reason.

After leaving the Seminary and joining the police force, Fiona McKendrick had been his first true sexual encounter, aside from a few snogs along the way. It had taken James years to come to terms with the fact that celibacy didn't have to be part of his life anymore. Fiona was a force to be reckoned with in bed and very adventurous. She knew what she liked and she taught James how to do it. But it was a short lived, purely sexual relationship; Fiona had career plans and they didn't include any long-term commitments in her personal life.

James had been thankful of Fiona's tutelage when he tangled with Scarlett Mortmaigne. She was another who liked to take control and James certainly had no complaints in that department. He'd only wished he hadn't been blinded by their childhood association and his attraction to her; perhaps then he would have seen through her deviousness. It would have saved him a well-deserved bollocking from Lewis, and more importantly it would have saved him the bitter remorsefulness, of once again, deceiving Lewis. To this day James still carried that shame, even though he knew it was long forgotten by Lewis.

Scarlett had been his last "conquest". His hand had had to suffice ever since.

James shifted to his side and rummaged around in the bedside table drawer, pulling out a tube of lube. He squeezed some out onto the palm of his hand and chucked the tube onto the bed next to him. He bent his knees up, keeping his feet flat on the bed, and smeared the lube over his cock. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he took his cock in a firm grip and slowly attempted to stroke it to life.

Liv Nash had been the closest he'd got to a girlfriend recently, and that was a depressingly long time ago. He'd sodding well bowed to her, for fuck's sake, as if he was in the middle of a Jane Austen novel. No wonder she had seemed to blow hot and cold with him. She'd seemed interested one moment and then backed away the next.

James closed his eyes as he felt his cock start to stir. He'd always found masturbation difficult; it was the last taboo his mind seemed to have trouble letting go off. He'd researched it extensively - the best techniques, the best times, the best way to get motivated. If he could shut his mind off for long enough and just concentrate on the pressure and slide of his hand along his cock, he could usually bring himself to orgasm. Inevitably though, his mind would start to go over whatever case he was currently on, killing off any progress he'd made on his erection. He was acutely aware that a bloke of his age should be able to masturbate at the drop of a hat and not go through the rigmarole that he had to.

His cock started to harden, his hips bucking forward as he thrust into his fist.

Lewis had told him long ago that he needed a partner, and Lewis was right. James longed to have someone to come home to, to love and to be loved in return. To have something like Lewis once had with his wife. But James knew he was a solitary man, already set in his peculiar ways, his eclectic taste in music, his love of poetry and books in general. Would a girlfriend understand his commitment to his job, the long hours, the early morning call outs? But, if he never tried, never gave someone the opportunity, what would he become in the years ahead?

His breath came in short pants as he neared completion, his fist and hips in a near perfect rhythm.

He'd met a woman recently though, at his favourite coffee shop. It had started off with a polite smile at each other when they had inadvertently made eye contact, before progressing to a smile and a nod of recognition. Maybe tomorrow he would take the next step and chat to her, find out her name at the very least.

James shuddered as he came, groaning aloud with pleasure and relief.

Somewhere out there in the mass of humanity, there had to be someone who had the ability to understand James, to love and to cherish him and to heal his wounded soul.

He just had to find them.


End file.
